The Darkening (Dawn of Ascension) Read online

  “Are you saying you don’t believe I have them?”

  A knock on the door had Samuel moving quickly, dragging the comforter up to her chin, making sure she was covered. “What is it, Merl?”

  Their host opened the door slightly and called out, “Endelle wants to make sure we get some practice in on sealing up the grid wall. Given all that happened last night, we should get going on that.”

  “Fine. Give us twenty.”

  “Good deal.”

  When Merl pulled the door shut, Samuel rolled out of bed. “I call the shower.”

  “I’m not done discussing this.”

  He just waved to her as he went into the bathroom and shut the door.

  * * * * * * * * *

  Showered, with a fresh change of clothes brought over from his Scottsdale Two home, Samuel sat next to Vela at the kitchen island, fork and knife in hand.

  Merl, standing opposite, near the sink, kept going on and on about Thorne’s recent exploits, something he and Vela had missed since they’d been asleep through the morning.

  Vela nodded to Merl. “So Thorne really tore the Illinois Two Seers Palace apart?”

  “Yep. Found it abandoned, except for the Seers. He had several Militia Warriors practicing with the wrecker shotguns, which work even better outside the darkening. I hear it’ll be nothing but rubble soon.”

  “Well thank the Creator for that. And what about the Seers?”

  “Best part of the whole damn story. He sent fifty-five drugged out women to Fiona’s rehab center.”

  “Fifty-five? That man is incredible.”

  “Yeah, he is.”

  Samuel groaned and snorted at the same time. He admired Thorne. Who the hell didn’t? But what he fucking resented was Merl using the news of Thorne’s exploits to impress his woman.

  He focused on the steak and eggs that Vela had prepared for them, and yes, the woman could cook. She’d brought food over from her house again and even made some kind of salsa with chunks of fruit in it, mango maybe.

  Since it was already after five and heading toward sundown, Samuel wished he had a beer. Of course that wasn’t the best way to start a night when he had a new skill-set to learn, if he could even help with the sealing of grid walls.

  He glanced at Vela, thinking about what she’d said earlier, about wanting to mind-dive, that maybe his real issue was one about connection.

  While Merl and Vela chatted away, he cut another slice of steak, piled on the egg, and the salsa, and shoved it in his mouth. He stared at the light granite of the island and chewed slowly.

  His life had always been pretty simple. His mother had died when he was very young and his father had been, clear up until the day of his death, a sonofabitch who drank too much.

  Samuel had lived a man’s life, a harsh life. That’s all he’d ever known. Even the torture he’d endured had been part of living his warrior’s life. In many ways, that was his job. He was a Militia Warrior; warring, tough, and yes, maybe somewhat disconnected. He loved to fuck women, but he never let anyone in. Maybe he didn’t know how, but like hell he’d put Vela through the trauma of seeing what he’d been through by engaging in something like mind-diving.

  He was also concerned for her physical safety. For the most part he had control of his dark power, but he still didn’t know what might cause an event like the one that had killed those innocent workers. And he didn’t want to find out, especially not when Vela shared his bed.

  He glanced at her, his heart swelling at the sight of her lovely profile, her mass of hair pushed behind her shoulders, flowing in waves and curls, away from her plate. She was a beautiful woman, over two-hundred-years-old. Ascended life broke the bonds of Mortal Earth so that here he sat, falling in love with a woman over twice his age.

  She wore jeans again, a great look for her long legs. Her peach-colored blouse, nipped in at the waist, had a row of buttons down the middle that he’d like to unbutton one at a time. He’d caught a glimpse of her low-cut sheer bra and had almost kept her in the bedroom with him for an additional twenty minutes.

  With some effort, he’d restrained himself.

  And if he kept looking and thinking about what was under her clothes, he’d be in trouble all over again.

  He focused on his meal, and every once in a while, joined in the conversation but mostly Merl liked talking, so he talked.

  When at last, their host rounded the island and called for plates, Samuel slid his in Merl’s direction, who performed dishwasher duty.

  He glanced at each of them in turn. “You two ready to see if you can seal a darkening grid wall together?”

  “Can’t wait.” Vela smiled broadly then turned toward Samuel.

  He still thought he was right about her, that she’d gotten spooked after that terrifying death vampire attack so long ago, and had reined in her life way too far. Even seeing her present excitement proved his point.

  “All right, where do you want to do this?” Samuel looked around the kitchen then at the window with a view of the sunlit forest on the opposite mountainside. “I’m thinking we should leave the Phoenix Metro area.”

  “That was my thought,” Merl said.

  Vela looked from one to the other. “Right. In case we end up summoning wreckers accidentally, they won’t land in Merl’s living room again.”

  For the next hour, Merl took them to various places around Second Earth, opening the grid then trying to seal it up, and only letting the approach of wreckers end their efforts.

  Bottom line, Vela didn’t always have enough power to seal the grid by herself. She could do it maybe fifty percent of the time and when Samuel tried to join her, they became oil and water and the effort failed.

  Later, back at Merl’s house, Samuel paced the living room. “The problem is that I don’t have the darkening ability. I can’t even see the grid wall.”

  “But you have Third Earth power,” Merl said. “And you have a connection to the darkening or you wouldn’t be here.”

  “I’m not so sure. I know I have a connection to Vela, but not necessarily to the darkening.”

  For some reason those words made her smile and he gave her a smile right back. Damn he liked her. No, he loved her, as much as he was able, he loved her. He’d been inside her mind, and knew her better than most of his friends, and he valued all that he knew her to be. In this short time he’d been with her, he’d fallen in love, maybe for the first time in his fucked up life.

  She came to him, and this time when he opened his arms he didn’t hold back, he just let his feelings flow.

  This feels good, she sent.

  Yeah, it does. I never thought I’d say this, but I’m glad the breh-hedden came to us.

  I know. Me, too. She lifted her head to look up at him. I didn’t mean to pick at you earlier. I think you might be right about me and I wasn’t happy about that.

  Me, too.

  She nodded briskly, leaned up and kissed him. Could a man ask for more?

  If Merl hadn’t been present, he would have returned the favor and made her feel that kiss to her toes.

  As it was, Merl cleared his throat. “Can we get on with this?”

  Vela drew back. “Yes, sorry Merl. Just working some stuff out.” She blinked several times and listed on her feet.

  “What’s wrong?” Samuel caught her arm and balanced her.

  “Someone’s in trouble. It feels just like the last time, when Duncan called for me. Samuel, I have to go. This is why I’m here.”

  “Just wait a second. Let’s get some back-up.”

  “Can you hear her? My God the woman’s screaming like she’s in pain.”

  But Samuel’s instincts didn’t mesh right now with Vela’s. “This doesn’t feel right to me.”

  “How would you know? You’ve already said this isn’t your gift.”

  He almost suggested she do a quick mind-dive and see what it was his instincts were telling him, but he shut that thought down fast. “Fine. Let’s check it out.” />
  “I’ll move us along as fast as I can and when we reach her, hopefully we can bring her back with us.” She glanced at Merl. “Can you sit tight?”

  Merl held his hands palms up. “Of course, but are you sure you don’t want to call in Leto at least?”

  “Merl, if we’d arrived two minutes later, Duncan would have died. Period. When the darkening calls, I have to go.”

  She held out her hand to Samuel and he took it, but added, “Let me get armed.”

  She nodded. “Of course.”

  He held out his free hand and drew his sword into his palm, a comfortable, solid, familiar weight, the identified grip like coming home. He’d battled a Third Earth wrecker not too many hours ago; he could do it again. If he thought about a squad of three, he shunted the image away.

  He just wished he had one of those shotguns in hand, though he’d agreed with Thorne about getting them looked over before any of them attempted to fire one again in the darkening.

  Besides, with Vela’s speed, he felt confident they could get into the darkening, take care of business, and get back before the wreckers arrived.

  As before, Vela levitated them at astonishing speeds through tunnel after tunnel, but the farther they traveled from the entry point, the more sharply his warning bells rang in his head especially the moment they crossed through the dimension into Third.

  Vela, something’s wrong. This place feels way too familiar. We need to get out of here.

  I can’t leave. The woman’s screams are ringing in my head.

  I can hear her, too, but I think it’s a trap.

  We’re almost there.

  One more tunnel and Vela stopped them just in front of a woman bound in familiar ropes, kneeling on the stone floor of the darkening space.

  The stone floor.

  Same floor as Duncan’s prison cell.

  A split-second later, five ascenders appeared in front of them and the woman fell silent, staring at up at them, a hard glint in her dark eyes.

  Vela turned, not in shock, but in determination. She started to pull Samuel back through the darkening, but two squads of wrecking crews arrived, shotguns in hand, cutting off their escape.

  Behind them, a very familiar Third ascender appeared, stroking his black goatee.

  “Welcome back, Samuel. Did you enjoy your year of freedom?” He spread his hands wide, “It took some doing, some careful manipulation, but here you are.”

  “You motherfucker,” Samuel shouted, raising his sword.

  “But he took the butt of a shotgun to the back of his head, felt the added jolt of preternatural power, and flew face forward at his torturer’s feet.

  The last thing he heard was Sharav saying, “Don’t touch the sword, you idiot; it’s identified.”

  Chapter Eight

  Vela stared down at Samuel, now laid out on the stone floor, unconscious. This couldn’t be happening.

  “Look at all that blond hair,” the woman said. “Can’t be a warrior. Not this one. Way too girlie.”

  Vela pivoted and watched the decoy rise to her feet, a very powerful looking woman who touched the numerous ropes and folded them away. Underneath, she wore flight battle gear. She planted her hands on her hips and offered a knowing smile.

  A hand caught Vela’s arm and held her fast. She turned and stared at one of the wreckers. She didn’t even try to pull away from him; her body seemed frozen, incapable of movement.

  Sharav lifted his wrist to his mouth and spoke softly. The next moment, an explosion sounded behind her, so loud that she gave a cry and tried to cover her ears, but the wrecker jerked her arm, forcing her to hold still.

  He turned her to face the direction of the blast. A shotgun had just taken out the darkening wall, the smoky ash boiling past the breach, obscuring what lay beyond.

  He yanked her through the breach, into a stone cell, on Third Earth proper, a very familiar cell. The air smelled funny, tainted, then she looked at the floor.

  Blood.

  She covered her mouth with her hand. This had been Duncan’s cell. She stood in the remnants of his blood.

  Samuel arrived next, carried by three wreckers, his head lolling. She stood by helpless as they bound him with heavy ropes, each length carrying a preternatural charge. They strung him up by his wrists from a swivel hook on the ceiling.

  Two of them caught her beneath her arms, pulled her backward, then bound her with rope to wrought iron rings on a wall ten feet from Samuel.

  The odd thought went through her head that for an advanced, more powerful civilization, Third Earth still relied on some very ancient methods.

  Sharav emerged from the darkening tunnel, the looped braids beside his face swinging as he moved.

  He smiled, the easy smile of a powerful man who owned the room. “How do you do Vela Stillwell of Phoenix Two? Are you comfortable?”

  She lifted her arms, pulling at the ropes that bound her to the wall. “I’d be more comfortable in a recliner, but so far I can’t complain.”

  “At least you’re not sniveling and begging to be released.”

  “How about this: fuck you, Sharav.”

  “And you know my name.”

  “I know the man who tortured Samuel.”

  “And you led him right to me. But just to be clear, I won’t be keeping you around much longer, just enough to give your man a little heartache. And though your power, for a Second ascender, is impressive, on Third, sweetheart, you’re pretty mediocre.”

  Something inside Vela grew very still. He’d tortured both Duncan and Samuel, transformed Samuel into a Third Earth warrior against his will, and now intended her death. Well, she wasn’t dead yet, so for now, she stayed focused and relaxed. If there was a way to take this motherfucker out, she meant to do it.

  “Yes, you have some spirit. I’ll give you that.”

  Vela thought about his earlier remark, that Sharav had gone through some hoops to get Samuel back. “So, let me understand, you designed this whole situation, to get Samuel under your control again?”

  “Everything having to do with Duncan, yes.”

  “Why? What can Samuel possibly mean to you?”

  “You’ve felt his power, so you know that he possesses enormous potential. I just wasn’t able to bring it to fullness before he escaped.”

  “Was I part of the plan?”

  Sharav turned toward her more fully. “No, which makes you extremely problematic for me on many levels.”

  “Oh, I see. Even though you were in the future streams, at the Illinois Seers Palace, you never saw me coming?”

  “It won’t hurt now to tell you the truth, but no, I didn’t. You are one big annoying surprise.”

  “Well, at least I have that,” she said, holding his gaze steady. “That I’ve annoyed you.”

  He moved closer and before she could even prepare, he slapped her hard across the face. The sting hurt, the surprise of it frightened her, but it was the ensuing pain that made her head hang. Her jaw felt like he’d just crushed it with that blow and a couple of her teeth were loose.

  She felt her vampire healing kick in and did nothing else except let it flow. Just in case, she could figure some way out of this mess, she at least needed her jaw and head intact.

  Sharav moved toward Samuel. Vela could see him through a blur of watery eyes, another unwelcome effect of the blow. She blinked until the tears disappeared.

  The goateed asshole approached Samuel from the front, folded off Samuel’s weapons harness, and planted one hand on the center of his chest and one hand on his forehead.

  Samuel’s body jerked hard but he lifted his head, his eyes rolling. “Fuck,” he murmured. Then, “Vela?”

  I’m here. To your right. I’m alive.

  He tried to turn his head toward her but Sharav caught his face in his hands. “I have you back now, my boy. This time, nothing will take you from me and this time, we’re going to tap that power deep and bring it forward for all to see. In fact, we’re going to do it right
now.”

  “Fuck you, Sharav.”

  “You’re slurring because one of my wreckers hit you across the back of your head and you’re still not quite in control.” He lifted Samuel’s arm and gave it a tug, which set the ceiling hook pivoting a quarter turn.

  Vela could see his face now. He had to work at focusing.

  “There’s your woman. Don’t worry. She’s all right. I just had to shut her up.”

  What did he do to you?

  Doesn’t matter.

  She looked into Samuel’s gray eyes, and saw his determination grow. She could feel it, that he was trying to access the killing part of his power.

  So could Sharav, because he stepped away from him. At the same time, Samuel’s dark, grayle mist flowed from his body, that part of his mist-power that he could control.

  “Good,” Sharav said. “Let it build, that angry stream of rage that has lived in you since our time together in Honduras Two. Every lash, every cut, every bruise brought this power to the surface.

  “Release it, Samuel. Let me see the power that got you out of that prison-fortress, the one that Endelle’s grid could never find.”

  Vela sensed Samuel’s power rising, the same power that he feared to release more than anything else in his life.

  She began to hope. She knew Samuel’s mind and the rage he carried toward Sharav, his desire to kill him. If Samuel could use all that power, aim it at Sharav...

  But even as the thought flowed through her head, she knew exactly what was going to happen.

  Samuel, she began, Don’t! This is what he wants!

  But Samuel had blocked her, his mist flowing in streams, though not like before, much heavier this time and whipping from side-to-side.

  “No,” she shouted. “Samuel, no!”

  But Samuel focused his attention on Sharav, whose eyes glowed, and who murmured quietly, “Weakling.”

  That did it.

  Samuel’s secondary grayle power rose, a dark stream of energy that poured from him, straight at Sharav.

  For a moment, hope soared, but Sharav merely smiled, lifted his hand, and Samuel’s terrible, deadly energy angled off his palm and hit Vela square in the chest.